by Dean Murray
Confused, I shook my head.
He lifted an eyebrow at his stepsister. Baylie grimaced.
“She was the first to see what the guy was doing,” Noah explained when she didn’t say anything. “She pepper-sprayed him. Made him let you go.”
The memory came back. “I heard someone scream.”
Noah nodded. “You need to stop blaming yourself,” he told Baylie.
She looked down.
“Baylie,” I said. “Please? It’s not your fault.” I paused. “You probably saved my life.”
She swallowed, her face taking on the same green cast I’d seen for days, whenever she or the others thought back on what things must have looked like in the bookstore.
I turned to the window, determinedly ignoring the expression.
“He was just so…” Baylie trailed off.
“Insane,” I supplied, attempting to keep my voice even as I glanced back at them.
Noah’s face made it clear he thought the same, possibly with a few more colorful words thrown in.
“But I’m fine,” I continued. “Really.”
Baylie hesitated a moment, and then nodded.
“So you want to go shopping again?” I asked.
Incredulous, she looked up at me. I grinned.
She made an exasperated noise, but a smile tugged at her lips. “I swear, you’d tell jokes in the middle of anything.”
Holding onto the grin, I pushed to my feet, though her words weren’t quite true.
I was just going to be fine if it killed me.
“Okay, so no shopping,” I said, my tone lighter than I actually felt. “What else can we do? Volleyball? Maybe a game or something?”
They hesitated.
“Come on,” I said, almost feeling ready to beg. “Let’s do something normal, okay?”
“You play poker?” Noah asked.
“No, but I’ll learn.”
He smiled.
By the bed, Baylie took a breath, almost visibly pushing her concern back inside. “Watch out, though. He’s vicious.”
Noah gave her a mock glare.
We headed for the stairs again, and this time, Baylie intercepted Diane before she could worry at me further. Noah grabbed a deck of cards from an end table in the living room, and in short order we were set up to play.
Hours passed and by the time dinner rolled around, I’d managed to win a few hands. We took a brief break to eat and then went back to the game, with Maddox joining us after he returned from work.
And for a while, I finally felt like life was normal.
It was late when we called it quits, and Diane and Peter had long since gone to bed. Waving goodnight to the guys, Baylie and I headed back to our room. As she climbed beneath the covers, I pulled open the window to let in the cool night air, and when I turned back around, I realized she’d already fallen asleep.
I grinned as I changed into my pajamas and then got into bed. She’d stayed awake at the hospital for days; it was about time the girl got some rest. The pillow felt good beneath my head as I lay down, and on the ceiling, the skylight showed a beautiful view of the stars.
But sleep didn’t want to come.
It’d been like this ever since the first night in the hospital. Lying around all day meant I didn’t use much energy, and so when it came time to sleep, I simply couldn’t. My whole body wouldn’t stop buzzing.
Rolling over, I closed my eyes, trying to will myself into unconsciousness. Time crawled by, my mind dipping briefly into confusing dreams about the previous day before surfacing again. The soothing ocean was nowhere to be found, and my muscles wouldn’t stop twitching.
I scowled, pushing away from the bed and looking around the room. Maybe if I walked around the house for a while, or got something warm to drink, I’d finally be able to sleep. But anything was better than lying here all night, gradually turning into a cramped ball of nervous energy.
Leaving the room silently, I walked down the hall. The air was heavy and still, and carried the slightly unsettling sense of people sleeping all around me – people who might wake up if I was too loud. Wincing at the stairs, I crept to the first floor, doing my best to avoid making the steps creak.
The kitchen tile was cold beneath my bare feet, and through the windows of the dining room, the moon bathed the whole space in silver light. By the doorway, I paused, suddenly captivated by the sight of the bluffs and the water beyond.
And I headed for the back door.
The brass lock gave soundlessly as I flipped it over. I pulled open the door, cool air blowing past me into the kitchen, and then tugged it closed as I stepped out onto the chilled concrete of the patio. The sound of the waves grew louder as I crossed the grass to the stairway and then descended the steps to the beach.
At the base of the stairs, I paused, caught by the urge to just walk into the waves, as though the ocean in my dreams and delusions would be the same as the black water in front of me. My hand gripped the railing as I struggled against the feeling, knowing that down where no one could see me and while the whole family was asleep, there was no way that a midnight swim could possibly be a good plan.
A moment passed. The compulsion faded. Swallowing hard, I sank onto the wooden steps. Drawing a shaky breath of the salty air, I wrapped my arms around my knees and watched the waves.
The hairs on my skin rose.
My brow furrowed at the sudden sense I wasn’t alone. Heart pounding, I took the rail and pulled myself to my feet, getting ready to jog back up the stairs.
“Hello,” came a familiar voice.
My gaze snapped to the right. From a shadowed pile of rocks at the base of the bluffs, a form stepped out into the moonlight.
The boy from the ocean.
I retreated a step, cursing my stupidity at coming out here in my pajama shorts and t-shirt, and leaving Baylie’s pepper spray in the house.
He paused. The moonlight shone on his black hair, the strands glistening wetly like he’d just come from the water, and below his smooth chest, he only wore a pair of dark swim trunks. His brow drew down at the sight of my caution, and he held up his hands peaceably.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said as if confused why I thought that would be the case.
I didn’t move.
“I just wanted to talk,” he continued in the same tone.
“Why?” I hesitated. “Who are you?”
“I was going to ask you that.”
My foot moved back a step.
“Okay, sorry. I just…” He shook his head. “You can call me Zeke. And you are?”
“Why’re you watching me?”
He paused. “You’re different.”
My brow furrowed.
“From me,” he elaborated. “The rest of us.”
My expression didn’t change.
Frustration twisted his face for a heartbeat. “Look, I’ve already broken like… a dozen laws by helping you back at the hospital, and being here isn’t doing me much good either. But I see you living here like a human, I felt what you did to the water the other night, and I saw what happened the next day too. I’d love to know what’s going on, so…”
I stared.
“You want to give me some help here?” he finished. “I’m just trying to figure this out.”
My heart was pounding so hard, it felt like it was crushing my chest. Shaking, I backed up another step.
“Look,” he said, starting forward.
I gasped, my hand coming up defensively, and he froze.
“Stay away from me,” I warned.
“I know what you are, okay? I just want to know what you did.”
“Come any closer, and I scream enough to wake the town, you get me?”
“I told you. I’m not going to hurt you.”
A scoff escaped me.
He paused. “I mean it. I only want to know how you did it. How…” He gestured carefully to the top of the bluffs. “Well, any of this, really.”
I didn’t
have a clue what to say. He was insane, that much was obvious. Insane… and able to speak to me underwater. While swimming God knew how deep too.
Trembling, I swallowed. “What are you?”
“Dehaian,” he replied. My expression stayed the same, and his lip twitched. “You know. Fish. Same as you.”
My head shook. “I… you’re…”
The words refused to come. My legs were unsteady beneath me, and if not for the edge of the wooden rail biting into my palm, I’d have believed I was dreaming.
Though given how vivid my dreams had been lately, there was still a good chance.
“I’m not…” I tried. The words still wouldn’t come. They were too stupid. Too insane. I wasn’t going to argue about whether or not I was a fish. “You stay away from me,” I said instead. “From the house, from anywhere. I see you again, I’m calling the cops.”
He hesitated. “I saw you underwater. I saw you changing. I know what you are.”
“I’m human, you freak!” I yelled, my voice breaking.
Gasping, I started up the stairs.
“Then why’d the sieranchine work on you in the hospital?”
I froze. Turning, I looked back to where he stood at the base of the stairway.
“I snuck into the hospital,” he said. “I used some of our medicine on you, in case it’d help.” He paused. “It did.”
On the banister, my hand shook. Amazing recovery, the doctor had called it. A sudden and swift turnaround from when they’d brought me in. He’d been stunned.
And I’d just felt like I had enough energy to fly to the moon.
“Why’d you do that?” I managed.
He shrugged a shoulder, not answering.
“Do you know where Jesse is?”
His brow furrowed. “Who?”
“The guy at the bookstore.”
“I don’t know any guy at the bookstore.”
“He attacked me.”
“I don’t–”
“He looked like you.”
Zeke paused. “How?”
“His eyes.”
He shook his head. “We don’t work in bookstores. We don’t work at all, for that matter. Not on land.” He hesitated. “And you should know that.”
I turned to go up the stairs again.
“You really don’t have any idea what I’m talking about, do you?” he called.
“I know you’re crazy,” I snapped over my shoulder.
“You’re telling me you don’t feel the pull of the water? You don’t have to be near it? Anything?”
I stopped and looked back at him.
“We don’t do well far from the ocean,” he said. “We get sick if we’re away for too long.” He paused. “That doesn’t happen to you?”
I swallowed. “Just lately,” I whispered.
A heartbeat passed, and he stepped back from the base of the stairway, clearing a path from me to the water’s edge.
“I’m not a threat to you,” he said. “I swear. I just want answers. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I didn’t move.
“Can we start over?” he asked.
My shoulder lifted in a small shrug.
“Okay. Like I said, I’m Zeke. And you are?”
“Chloe.”
His lip twitched, wry humor in his blue eyes. “Nice to meet you, Chloe. You ever heard of dehaians?”
Not taking my eyes from him, I shook my head.
“Alright. Can I show you then?”
He gestured to the ocean. Cautiously, I descended the stairs. Keeping well clear of him, I walked to the edge of the wet sand.
“It helps if you’re in the water,” he said, a trace of amusement entering his voice.
I stayed where I was.
“Okay,” he amended, humor fading. “Just… have a seat.”
Still watching him, I sank onto the sand.
He crouched several feet away, his lean-muscled arms braced on his knees and his bare skin bright in the moonlight. “Put your legs out so the water hits them. And don’t fight it.”
My brow furrowed, but I stretched my legs out.
He glanced to the ocean. A moment passed as the tide swept out and then came rolling back in.
Water rushed up around my legs, cool and fast and wonderful, and my skin tingled as it passed. My lips twitched reflexively toward a smile, and I fought the expression, not wanting to give any sign of how great it felt.
I looked back to him as the water pulled away again.
His mouth tightened. “Okay, listen, how about this? I’m not crazy, alright? Let’s agree on that first off. Oh, and that I don’t want to hurt you. Because that’s true too. So now if you’ll just tell me–”
The tide hit me and I gasped, unprepared for it. Water swept up around my feet, my knees, my thighs and sent shivers running through every inch of my body. I gulped down a breath, my hands bracing me on the sand as the shock passed.
And he chuckled, as if he’d meant to distract me all along.
I glared, but his amusement just grew. He seemed incapable of keeping it away.
“Don’t freak,” he warned.
He pointed. My gaze followed.
I choked on the air.
Something was wrong with my legs. Really wrong. For one thing, they were shimmering, and not in some fancy, mineral lotion kind of way. Iridescent hints of blue and green, yellow and orange shone from my thighs to my feet. And for another, they were covered in a strange, barely perceptible texture.
Texture like scales.
Instinctively, my hands moved to swipe it away and then I froze, fear catching up with me. I didn’t want to touch it. I didn’t want to feel this on me.
I lifted my foot, and choked all over again. Thread-like filaments no thicker than a hair ran from one leg to the next, glistening in the same way as my skin, though they snapped when I moved and faded into the moonlight like smoke.
The tide rolled toward me again. Pushing at the sand, I scooted awkwardly back from it, watching the water like it was acid till it finally rushed away.
Trembling, I looked at Zeke.
“What’d you do to me?” I whispered.
“Nothing. You’re dehaian. It’s fine.”
I stared at him.
He took a breath. “Sorry. Okay. I just… You’re like me. You get under the water and you don’t fight it, you start changing like this. I saw you begin doing it the other day. And it’s fine. It’s not anything. It’s just who you are.”
“Y-you saw…”
I couldn’t finish, but he just nodded. My head shook in response.
“But I didn’t… I…”
“You were breathing underwater. For goodness sake, you were screaming. That’s how I found you. Any dehaian would have heard that for miles. And yeah, you were.”
I swallowed hard. “Wh-what was I…”
His brow furrowed, and then he seemed to get the question, even if I couldn’t bring myself to say it.
“Just the other way we get around,” he answered, his lip curving back into that annoying, amused smile. “We… well, the way you are on land? That’s only one option.”
He grinned. “Mermaid, Chloe. That’s what humans would call you. Or, you know, merman for me. But yeah, that. We prefer our own terms, though.”
I blinked. I wanted to run back to the house. Or wake up. Either would’ve been great.
But I couldn’t even breathe.
“You aren’t like them,” he said. “You’re one of us. You come into the water with me now, I’ll prove it to you.”
I shoved away from the sand, my body finally answering the frantic signals from my brain. And then I fell back again as my legs crumpled.
Zeke rose and I scrambled backward to stay away from him. He froze.
“Don’t,” I warned. “Just… don’t.”
I looked down at my legs. The texture and the shine were mostly gone, leaving only a faint shimmer like salt drying on my skin.
Shivers ran thr
ough me.
“It’s hard to switch back if you’re not used to it,” he explained. “Give it a minute.”
I eyed him warily.
He eased back into a crouch several feet away. “It’s better if you let yourself change fully, though. Like this… the energy kind of builds. Makes it harder to stay on land.”
I shook my head quickly, hearing the suggestion behind the words.
“Okay,” he allowed. “But can you tell me how you’ve managed to keep out of the ocean this long? If you’ve never… you know, done any of this before?”
I swallowed. “I live in Kansas.”
His brow furrowed. “That’s one of the middle states, right?”
I stared at him.
“What?” he protested. “You know the provinces of Teariad? Ryaira?”
I hesitated. “One of the middle ones, yeah.”
He watched me for a moment. “Okay. And you’ve lived there since…?”
“My whole life.”
His eyebrows rose and fell in amazement. “I can’t even… there’s no way you should have been able to do that.”
My shoulder twitched in a shrug. “I wanted to come here. My parents just hate water. They wouldn’t let me.”
“Your parents,” he repeated. “They hate water.”
I nodded.
“So they’re not… I mean… they can’t be…”
He looked like he couldn’t find the right words.
“They got sick just being near the ocean.”
“Really?” he said. A doubtful expression crossed his face as his gaze dropped to the sand.
I looked down. My muscles didn’t feel as shaky and carefully, I pushed to my feet. He glanced up, and then stood as well.
“I’m going to guess your friends aren’t like you, either, right?” he said.
My gaze twitched to the top of the bluffs. “I’m human,” I told him. “We… we’re all human.”
His brow furrowed, but I just headed for the stairs.
“Chloe,” he called.
I paused, not looking back.
“You’re not,” he said. “And it’s going to be hard, trying to stay like this. Harder now than it was before.”
He hesitated. “But it doesn’t have to be. We can help you. And if you’ve found a way to be on the land like you have… maybe you could help us too.”
Trembling, I glanced back at him. “Stay away from me, Zeke. Please.”
I took to the stairs, leaving him standing on the moonlit beach.